Slitherin'
by Booklady
Summary: An argument between Draco and Ron has unexpected consequences for Harry.This all belongs to J.K. Rowling!


**Slitherin'**

Later on, they blamed it all on Barty Crouch, Jr. It was his fault, they agreed, for setting a precedent. Draco was particularly keen on this theory; especially because of the way it made Ron turn red. He always maintained that it was more Ron's doing than his.

Ron maintained, with perfect truth, that it was Draco who started it. Draco had joined Harry, Ron, and Hermione for lunch that particular Saturday at Harry's insistence. Harry had stated that if he and Draco were really going to continue to explore a friendship (or anything more, Draco added to himself), then they needed to make an effort to at least be civil to each other's friends. Draco was less seduced by the logic of this than by the image of seeing Harry one day looking back at him with the same lust and love he felt whenever he looked at the Boy Who Lived But Was Completely Clueless, but he did agree to lunch, and maintained his cool for at least fifteen minutes.

Ron's table manners undid him, though. The third time Ron opened his mouth to speak while still chewing, Draco scowled and said "Shut your mouth, Weasley, none of _us_ were raised in a barn."

A chill silence fell. Harry frowned at Draco. Hermione's face was blank. Ron chomped viciously on his mouthful and gulped, pulling his wand at the same time.

Draco drew his, a little startled. That was hardly the worst insult he'd ever thrown at Ron; the reaction seemed a little extreme – but then he suddenly remembered being with Harry when he received the news that the Burrow had been levelled by Death Eaters, and one of the Weasley brothers was hovering near death. He paled.

"Don't talk about my home, Malfoy," Ron growled, in a really quite scary voice. "Or my family. Your Death Eater friends have done enough damage already."

At that, the tiny bit of remorse Draco had felt for his remark vanished in a rush of rage. It had been quite a while since his departure from the Death Eater circle, and he was bloody sick of remarks like this. He didn't usually get them from Harry's friends – and _never _from Harry – so it was an amplified blow.

He jumped to his feet. "Shut your mouth, you ginger prat," he snarled, even as Ron jumped up as well, looming over him. "It's people like you who –"

"Draco!" Harry snapped.

"No! I won't have it! You keep telling me he's such a great mate, and such a great strategist, but he can't even keep all the players straight in his head!" He looked up directly into Ron's eyes_. "I am NOT a Death Eater!"_

"No, you're just a nasty little snake with a Death Eater dad," Ron snapped, and swished his wand.

The spell flashed from the tip of his wand toward Draco just as Draco cast a freezing spell at Ron in an attempt to stop the movement. And Harry jumped up, grabbing Ron's wand arm, just in time to be hit by both spells.

Everyone in the Great Hall watched in horror as a nimbus of energy surrounded Harry's body. It flared so bright that they had to shield their eyes; a second later it had gone, Harry had gone, and a small black snake was making for the doors with impressive speed. Professor Dumbledore's spell to shut the doors was one second too late to stop its escape.

Screams erupted throughout the Hall. Ron and Draco both dropped their wands in shock. Hermione leaped to her feet, scooped up Harry's wand from the heap of his clothes left on the floor, and started towards the doors as Professors Snape and McGonagall descended on the two boys. They offered no resistance to being herded out of the Hall as Professor Dumbledore called for order among the other students.

"You idiots," Hermione hissed as she broke away from the boys and teachers to go the other way down the hallway. "You'd better hope I can find him and that he's all right."

"Indeed, gentlemen," said Professor McGonagall frostily. Hermione stormed out of sight.

HPHPHP

He remembered this view of the world, remembered how to move in the sinuous, muscular body. He remembered how to taste the air for scents, and how to interpret what they told him. So he swallowed his confusion and followed his instincts, which were telling him to get out somewhere warm. All this cold stone surrounding him was not on.

People screamed at his passage, but he thought it was more from surprise than fear. He didn't think he looked very threatening. He reached the main doors and stopped, frustrated; he was too small to reach the handle, let alone having no hands, and yet too big to just slither under.

He was investigating a fissure in the stone nearby when the door opened to admit two students, windblown and absorbed in their conversation. He darted out, vaguely registering the vibrations of a shout behind him as he went. He tasted the air – _dustpaperinkvanillashampoo_ – Hermione! He didn't think he was up to his friends' panic at the moment, so he zipped off to the side and into the shrubbery, hurrying along the wall of the school until he could turn the corner and get away. The scent/taste faded behind him, and he slithered on and on, looking for a comfortable sunny spot in which to bask and think.

HPHPHP

Harry came back to himself one very unhappy snake. The hungry eagle diving for him had been scary enough, but then he had fled into the Forbidden Forest to get away, which was not one of his better moves. It turned out there were lots of things in the Forest that wanted to catch a small black snake - including, as it turned out, Death Eaters.

The rough sack he was in was redolent of the onions and various herbs that were bundled in here with him. The squeeze of Apparition had been deeply unpleasant, but the way he was being jounced around now was running a close second. Harry gulped and tried to settle his nerves; he would need to be alert when they got wherever they were going.

Finally the world steadied, a face peered in, and a gloved hand reached into the sack and pulled him out, grasping carefully behind his head and thus forestalling his instinctive move to bite. Harry found himself looking up into the momentarily appalled face of Severus Snape.

"Wormtail," Snape said, schooling his expression after that split-second blanch. "Where did you go for these things?"

"The Forest, just as you said," said Wormtail, looking sly. Harry wished he could bite him, but he could only just see him out of the corner of one eye. Snape had a firm grip just behind Harry's head and was holding him up in a rather uncomfortable position. Harry wriggled futilely.

"And the reason you did not stun the snake?" Snape went on, voice dropping to a dangerous silken purr.

Now Wormtail looked alarmed. "But I did stun it! I did! It must have worn off…"

"A clear indication of your magical effectiveness, I would say," Snape sneered. "Now get out. The Dark Lord wants this potion as soon as possible; I must have quiet to brew."

Wormtail scuttled out. Snape looked down at Harry and sighed. "Only you," he muttered, as if to himself, and then added, "Don't bite." He set Harry down on the worktable.

Harry went to the edge and looked over. It was a pretty fair drop to the floor for a little snake like himself. He looked back at Snape, who was taking the other things out of the sack.

"Onions?" Snape said, holding one up. "Does he think I'm making dinner?"

Harry laughed. Snape looked up at the hiss.

"You can't be roaming about the workroom," he said, grasping Harry behind the head once again. "Salazar knows what havoc you'd wreak." Harry hissed indignantly, but Snape ignored him, crossing the room to an open-topped glass tank and dropping him in. "Stay there. We may yet get out of this alive."

Alive sounded good to Harry. He coiled up in the tank, wishing it was warmer. Snape pulled his wand a moment later and tapped the edge of the tank. Harry didn't see his lips move, but suddenly he was bathed in lovely heat. He hissed in appreciation and settled down to wait.

Snape went back to his potion. Without students to rail at, he looked peaceful as he chopped, diced, mashed, and mixed. There was no hesitation in his movements, no stopping to consult any formula. He just knew what to do and went about doing it. Harry was reluctantly impressed. It also occurred to him how unbelievably frustrating it must be for the man to spend most of his time around people who couldn't brew like this, who stumbled and hesitated and made mistakes.

Not that that excused his greasy git behaviour.

Time wore on. Snape left his potion to simmer and began meticulously cleaning his work space – without magic, Harry noticed. Maybe there was a reason for everyone having to do it that way in detention other than Snape's bloody-mindedness?

Couldn't be.

As Snape was washing his hands, the door to the workroom swung open and the very last person Harry wanted to see strode through, accompanied by his faithful serpentine companion.

"My Lord!" said Snape, dropping immediately to one knee.

"Ssseverusss," said Voldemort. Harry rolled his eyes. Perhaps Voldemort had gone a little too far with the Parseltongue, he thought.

Nagini completed her circuit of the room and approached his tank. Slowly her great head lifted up until she was peering in at Harry. _Hello, little one_, she hissed.

_Hello, _Harry replied after a moment.

Nagini's head swung around to Voldemort, who glanced over. _He is appealing_, she hissed.

_Indeed_, Voldemort replied, and came over to the tank. Harry hissed wordlessly in pain – even in this form, Voldemort's proximity made his head feel like it was about to split open.

"The potion will be complete in an hour, my Lord," said Snape, who had not risen from the floor. "It will need only the addition of the venom for full potency."

"Exxxxcellent," said Voldemort, turning away from Harry's tank and coming over to the worktable, where the cauldron was suspended over a small fire. He sniffed the fumes. "Well done, Sssseverusss."

Snape bowed his head.

"Rissse," said Voldemort. Then his attention was caught by the onions lying discarded on the table; he lifted one of them and turned a quizzical look on Snape.

"Wormtail," said Snape, in a disgusted tone.

"Placing his order for dinner?" said Voldemort. "Sssurely you didn't assk him for onionss."

"No, of course not. Onions would render the potion only half as strong," said Snape. "You'll notice I kept them well away."

Voldemort swept them onto the floor. "I sshall ssspeak to him," he hissed. "I will not tolerate this incompetence."

"Yes, my lord," said Snape.

Meanwhile, Nagini had been swaying back and forth, staring at Harry. Harry stared back, wondering what she was thinking. Could she tell that he wasn't really a snake?

Without warning, she lunged up and seized Harry out of the tank, dropping to the floor with him clamped in her jaws.

_Hey!_ Harry shouted, wriggling madly. _Let me go!_

_I want to play with him_, Nagini hissed, encircling Harry in a few coils of herself. _Play with me, little one_, she said to Harry.

_Not a good idea_, said Harry, trying to escape. _I'm no fun, really._

Nagini laughed and foiled his attempts. _You are._

"My lord," said Snape, "this is not the best idea. I will need his venom in an hour's time for the potion."

"Nagini will not take his venom," said Voldemort, smiling at his snake as Harry tried to escape from her coils. It was a truly horrible sight.

Snape opened his mouth, seemed to reconsider, and shut it again. Great. Harry was on his own.

He managed to escape from Nagini's coils and sped across the floor, heading for the narrow space under the cabinets where she couldn't follow. She got ahead of him, though, and once again wrapped him up in her coils. This went on for several minutes, until Harry was both exhausted and angry.

Angry enough, when Nagini trapped him once again, to bite.

His fangs sank into her body with satisfying ease, and her reaction was astonishing. She let out a great hissing shriek and began to thrash. Harry was thrown away from her convulsing body and quickly zoomed under the cabinet, from which sanctuary he watched in disbelief as her body fell still and her eyes glazed over.

Voldemort, who had been standing frozen for the minute or so it took for this to happen, dropped to his knees beside Nagini's body and caught her up in his arms. Harry watched, sickened, as the Dark Lord embraced the corpse of his familiar.

Then he scuttled backward as Voldemort rose to his feet, terrible in his wrath and grief.

Voldemort turned on Snape. "You brought that creature here," he snarled, lifting his wand. Snape did not even try to escape.

Oh, this was not on. Little though Harry liked him, the Order needed Snape. As Voldemort's lips began to shape the word "Avada," Harry rushed out of his hiding place and bit him on the ankle.

Voldemort gasped, bent double, and kicked him off, trying to get a bead on him with his wand. Harry lashed right back and bit him again.

Again Voldemort sagged, again he straightened. This time he snapped up his wand and roared "Crucio!" Snape dropped screaming to the floor.

Enraged, Harry darted back and bit Voldemort again. And again, and again, dodging and weaving as Voldemort tried to get hold of him or at least aim his wand at him. Each time he bit, Voldemort would gasp and crumple a bit, but then straighten and keep on trying to catch Harry, although it did seem to be harder for him each time.

At last, the seventh time Harry bit him, Voldemort dropped to the floor, twitched weakly for a few minutes, and lay still.

Snape's screams stopped abruptly, replaced by gasps and swallowed sobs. Harry cautiously approached Voldemort, who didn't move. Harry lay across his neck; there was no pulse. The horrible red eyes were empty.

Then a great wave of power roared up and lashed through the room and its two remaining occupants. As Harry watched, Voldemort's face and body seemed to collapse in on themselves, until he was clearly nothing but a desiccated corpse.

Harry slithered over to Snape, who was staring from Voldemort to his own left forearm with his eyes bulging. Snape's muscles were twitching, and he still gasped, but he appeared to have retained his sanity. He looked down as Harry slithered onto his leg and picked him up by the neck. Harry wriggled irritably; this was very uncomfortable.

"Come on," said Snape, catching his breath. "Time to get out of here." He gathered Harry up in his palm and reached into his robe pocket with the other hand. Harry felt the unmistakable hook of a Portkey, and a moment later they landed in the infirmary at Hogwarts.

"Call Albus," Snape said to Madame Pomfrey, when she ran to them. "He's done it." And he collapsed – alas, on top of Harry.

HPHPHP

Draco had had enough. Enough of worry over Harry, enough of Ron's sniping (Draco had gone back to calling him Weasel in retaliation), enough of Hermione's tight-lipped panic, enough of Dumbledore's disappointment. It had been an accident, for Salazar's sake! And really Weasel's fault anyway! What was taking Madame Pomfrey so long to set Harry to rights and send him back to his friends?

All kinds of bizarre rumours were going around the school, as well. Several upper-year Slytherins had left school quite suddenly, and several more people from houses in addition to Slytherin had received private visits from the Ministry of Magic. People were saying that Harry had somehow sneaked out and killed the Dark Lord.

Other people were saying that Professor Snape had killed him, or that Professor Snape had taken Harry to Voldemort and Voldemort had killed Harry. The Ministry of Magic had spent several hours with Professor Snape yesterday, and Professor Snape was in an even worse mood than usual as a result.

In any case, it had been three days, and that was quite long enough. Since no one would tell him anything, Draco was getting to the bottom of this himself.

To that end, he waited until midnight, then dressed in black pants and a black shirt, swinging a black cloak over the top whose hood would conceal his distinctive hair. What he wouldn't give for an Invisibility Cloak! But you worked with what you had, until you got what you wanted.

There was a light coming from under the door of the hospital wing, and Draco heard soft voices. They were too quiet for him to hear what they were saying, though, so after a moment of indecision, he eased the door open.

The light and the voices were coming from behind the privacy screen surrounding the last bed in the room. Draco stole closer, listening with all his might.

"– thure?" Harry was asking. His voice sounded a bit peculiar.

"I'm sure," said Madame Pomfrey in sad tones. "I'm sorry, Harry. There's nothing more we can do."

"How can I fath eve'yone like thiss?" Harry asked.

_Is he drunk or something?_ Draco wondered.

"With your head held high," said Madame Pomfrey firmly. "You've just saved the world, Harry."

"Bu' I'm a freak!"

"Certainly not! Oh, Harry…" Her voice softened as Draco heard soft sobs coming from Harry. "Harry, it will be all right. You'll be fine. Oh, there, there…"

_Oh, Salazar! What's wrong with Harry?_ Draco wondered frantically. _Did the Dark Lord do something to him after all?_

"Sankss, Madame Pomfrey," Harry said at last. "I – I ssink I'll be okay now."

"All right," said Madame Pomfrey. "Try to get some sleep. Things won't seem so terrible when you've had some rest. Good night."

"Goo' night," said Harry, as Draco quickly dove under one of the hospital beds. Madame Pomfrey went past, and silence fell.

When Draco was sure she had gone, he crept out from under the bed and headed for Harry's bed. It was past time to find out what was going on, and to see with his own eyes if Harry was all right.

At first glace, he looked all right, lying on his side facing away from Draco. Horrible touselled hair to toes, all present and correct. Draco sighed in relief, and Harry stiffened, but didn't turn.

"You look fine to me," said Draco to the back of his head.

"Yeah?" said Harry. "What are you doing here, Thraco?" His voice seemed even more slurred close up. He kept his back to Draco.

"I came to see how you were, of course," said Draco, taking off his cloak and sitting down on the edge of Harry's bed. "Nobody would tell us anything. The weirdest rumours are floating around."

Harry gave a small damp chuckle. "Aren' they alwayss? What're they sssaying?"

"That you killed the Dark Lord, mostly," said Draco bluntly, watching the stiff set of those shoulders.

Harry dropped his head, giving Draco a sudden view of the very lickable spot on the back of his neck that he liked to fantasise about. Draco licked his lips, but then gasped as Harry said, "It'ss true."

Draco goggled for a minute before getting himself back under control. "It's _true?_ You _killed Voldemort?_"

"Dead as a doornail," said Harry, clearly enunciating carefully.

"_How?_"

Another small and unamused chuckle. "I bit him."

Silence. Then Draco said flatly, "You bit him."

"Mmhmm. Turnss out I was a _venomouss_ sssnake," said Harry.

"You were still a snake? Oh, Salazar, Harry…" Draco wished Harry would turn over; he wanted to touch him, wanted to take him in his arms, actually, and reassure himself that he was all right, but he couldn't quite do that when Harry wouldn't face him. "I'm so sorry about that," he blurted. "I'm so sorry!"

Harry sighed. "I'ss okay, Thraco. Tha' ssort of thing iss what happenss to me."

Draco swallowed. "Why won't you look at me?"

Harry's shoulders tensed again. "'s more you looking at me, really…" He shrugged then, and slowly turned over, looking up into Draco's eyes.

Draco, frantically running his eyes over Harry's body, checking for damage, at first didn't understand. Then he met Harry's gaze – his slit-pupilled gaze – and his throat seized up.

Harry nodded. "I'm a little more sstuck with the sspell than we thought," he said, slowly and clearly. Draco saw the flash of fangs in his mouth.

"Op – open your mouth," he said slowly.

Harry did, and for good measure, he stuck out his tongue. His quite long, forked tongue. No wonder he was having trouble talking.

"How could this happen?" Draco asked faintly.

Harry sat up and leaned back against the pillows. "Nobody knowss. Ssome combination of the sspells and my power, possssibly then combined with whatever bitss of Voldemort I might have swallowed – " He made a face at that, and shrugged. "They've had healersss in from Ssst. Mungo's an' everything. Thiss iss as human as I'm going to get."

"Wow," said Draco, after a minute. Then he grinned. "Let me see your tongue again," he ordered.

Harry stuck it out at him; it was almost twice as long as it had been. Draco shivered. Then he frowned. "This is why you said you were a freak?" he demanded.

Harry rolled his eyes and spread his arms. "Look at me, Thraco! I'm all – sssnakey! I can't even talk right!"

"So what? Pomfrey's right; you just saved the world. Nobody's going to care what you look like."

Harry's gaze dropped. "I –"

Draco reached out and lifted Harry's chin, looking into his eyes. "You look fine, Harry," he said.

"Right," said Harry, pulling back. He leaned sideways, reaching for the glass of water on the table next to his bed, and Draco couldn't help noticing how very flexible he seemed to be. He shivered again.

"Come on," he said, trying to get his mind out of the gutter. Harry was having a serious crisis here. "Look at Mad-Eye Moody. Nobody freaks out at him – you look way better than him."

Harry grinned. "Wow, thanks. Better than Mad-Eye Moody, huh?"

"Much."

"That'ss ssomething, I guessss. I wass hoping – " Harry looked away.

Draco studied him. "Hoping for what?"

But Harry seemed to be tongue tied. He looked up at Draco through his lashes and blushed fiercely. Draco was enchanted.

"Come on, Harry, it's just me," he said, dropping his voice into its sexiest register. "What were you hoping for?"

Gryffindor courage rose to the occasion. "Hoping to look good for you," Harry said, looking Draco straight in the eye.

Draco's eyes widened as exultation clamoured in his chest. Harry did feel the same as he did! Or at least he felt the lust part – did he feel the love too? "You look perfect for me," he managed to say huskily, and when Harry looked sceptical, he hooked a hand behind his neck, pulled him forward, and kissed him.

Harry didn't respond for a moment, out of pure surprise Draco thought, but then his mouth opened. Draco crowded him back against the headboard, kissing him fiercely. Harry kissed back just as fiercely, and my, that tongue was an _experience_.

"I want you," Draco muttered, pulling back for oxygen, fingers poised to tear off Harry's pyjama shirt. "Right now."

"Right now," Harry gasped, and wriggled down in the bed, pulling Draco with him. Draco gave in to his urge and ripped the pyjama shirt off Harry. Buttons scattered everywhere, and Harry laughed breathlessly. His fingers crept up under Draco's own shirt. "You too."

Draco tore his shirt off and dove into another kiss, running his hands over as much of Harry as he could reach. Even this late in the school year, Harry was seriously thin; Draco's fingers skipped over ribs and back up to a prominent collarbone, then stroked back down to Harry's nipples.

"Mmmm," said Harry, undulating under him in a truly maddening way and then hooking one leg around his hips – as if Draco was planning to get up and leave. Draco ground his hips down, and Harry met him, moaning, "Keep doing that."

"This?" Draco stroked Harry's chest. "Or this?" He pinched his nipples. Harry squawked and arched up. His hips rolled, and Draco's eyes crossed.

"Whatever," Harry murmured against Draco's throat, and began to lick and nibble. He found the hot spot behind Draco's left ear, and seemed to enjoy Draco's muted screech very much.

Draco ran his lips down Harry's chest to the waistband of his pyjama trousers, and looked up. Shining green, slit-pupilled eyes met his, and Harry nodded. Draco pulled the trousers down and off, and got his first look at Harry's cock. It looked, he decided, delicious, and he swiped his tongue the whole length of it at once.

Harry squawked again and pushed his hips up. Draco obliged him, taking Harry's cock in his mouth and sucking enthusiastically. Harry whimpered and wriggled, until Draco put his hands on his sharp hipbones to hold him down. Then he switched to begging.

"Draco….please, please…ahhh, so good, so good, Draco…oh god oh god oh Draco, I'm, I'm gonna…don't stopdon'tstopdon't_stop_…"

Draco sucked harder, and a second later Harry arched up so hard he almost threw him off, and came.

They lay there for a minute, panting. Then Harry caught his breath, bent right in half, jerked down Draco's trousers and pants in one motion, and swallowed his cock.

Draco shrieked "Harry!" and tried to thrust straight down his throat; Harry gagged slightly and wrapped a hand around the base of Draco's cock to stop him doing it again. But Draco didn't mind, because that hand was squeezing rhythmically, and Harry was sucking, and that _amazing tongue_ was flickering all over Draco's cock. Chills erupted all over him and he came in less than a minute, screaming Harry's name.

As they lay there afterward, gasping, it occurred to Draco that he hadn't cast anything resembling a Silencing Charm, and both of them had just been screaming their heads off. He tensed.

"What?" Harry asked, sounding nervous. He straightened himself out and peered worriedly into Draco's eyes.

"No Silencing Charms," Draco said.

Harry smiled, leaned forward, and kissed him sweetly. "I cast one when you first got here," he said. "I figured we'd need it for the conversation. I didn't expect – " He blushed.

"You're so cute when you do that," said Draco giddily, and kissed him again. "Wait, you cast a Silencing Charm? Really?" He looked over at Harry's wand, lying innocent and untouched on the bedside table.

"Um, yeah, there were a couple of side effects after Voldemort kicked it," said Harry. "One of them was I seem to have gotten better at wandless magic."

"Better at it?" Draco echoed. "You could do it before?"

"Yeah," said Harry, looking sheepish. "But now I don't have to say anything. It's pretty cool."

Draco backed off and stared at him.

Harry frowned. "Am I too weird for you after all?" he asked, sounding a strange mixture of sad and angry.

"No," said Draco with conviction, seized him, and kissed him soundly. "You're mine. Mine, mine, mine."

"O – kay," said Harry slowly.

"Really, Harry," said Draco. "Mine. Forever. You're perfect. Let nobody try to tell you different; they'll answer to the wrath of a Malfoy."

When Harry looked as though he might argue, Draco laid a hand over his lips. "Perfect. And mine. And tomorrow we're telling the whole world. Together."

Harry stared into his face for a long time. Then he smiled, wide enough to show the fangs, and said, "I love you too."


End file.
